


Koshka

by ToxicBabes



Series: Tales of Apartment 8H [8]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Cats, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: Timur finds a kitten on the grounds of Stirling Lines. Despite his initial hesitation towards their new pet, Maxim realises the new company isn't too bad.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Series: Tales of Apartment 8H [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705774
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Koshka

**Author's Note:**

> I had the concept of this all the way back to January (?) and finally felt the drive to finish it now! The fic is rated mature to be on the safer side, it has a very brief and vague sex scene, but nothing in depth at all. Hope you enjoy it.

Some days were more mundane than others when it came to the downtime, but Timur woke up each morning wondering what could be different. Perhaps he would have an interesting conversation with Mark down at the workshops or Shuhrat could recommend a movie that wasn’t action for once. As per routine, he started his day off with exercise and Maxim followed alongside him for a jog. He thought back to that one morning where they made out in the trees, hidden in the foliage. Maybe today they could catch a break at those trees again. 

Wet gravel crunched under their sneakers and Timur took in steady breaths of the crisp air, finding himself enjoying the light mist of the rain cooling his skin. He understood the addiction to exercise, this rush of endorphins granting him a floating sensation in his head that was almost pleasurable and for a while he was caught up in chasing this feeling, maintaining it for as long as he could so he kept running. Though after a while he realised he could only hear his own footsteps. He came to a pause, and turned around. 

Roughly twenty feet behind him, Maxim was keeled over, hands resting on his knees as he sucked in lungfuls of air. He slowed down to a walk and caught up with Timur. 

“Keep up, Basuda,” Timur teased and offered his bottle of water. Like a parched man, Maxim slugged down half of it and almost choked, spluttering as he tried to compose himself. “Lay off the smokes too, your lungs must be clogged to shit with tar.”

Cocking a brow as if to challenge the statement, Maxim straightened up and they started to walk again. “I see you looking at me every night. You think it’s sexy, don’t you?” He pointed out with a breathless chuckle, nudging him lightly with his elbow.

“And incredibly disgusting, but yes, you manage to make it look charming,” Timur said and he grimaced as Maxim spat on the ground. He drew his gaze towards the treeline where the endless span of green began to blur into one before his tired eyes and he caught a glimmer of something white. Straining to make out a faint sound, he concentrated. Maxim sauntered to his side and craned his head to figure out what on Earth he was staring at so intensely. “Hey… do you hear that?”

All Maxim could hear was the blood pounding in his ear, his exhausted heart trying its best to keep up. “Nothing,” he answered and furrowed his brows as Timur stepped off the trail onto the soggy grass that squelched under his shoes. “What are you doing?”

“There’s something here.” One foot into the bushes, the other sinking deeper into the muck, Timur leaned to pick something up. Maxim looked on and swore on his life that he would have him mopping the floors if he dragged the mud into their apartment. Timur gave an exclamation of surprise and the curiosity was too much, itching all over Maxim’s skin as he stood with his hands on his hips, patience wearing thinner by the second. “A kitten!”

Unsure if he wished to engage in the same excitement or he wanted to continue on with their workout, Maxim blinked at him. “A cat,” he repeated with no intonation, no inflection, devoid of enthusiasm. 

“No, a _kitten._ He’s a baby,” Timur corrected and he returned to the trail with a small, white bundle cradled in his arm. It was tiny, covered in dirt and soaking from the rain. “Look at the poor thing.” 

“It probably has fleas.” Maxim knew it would piss him off, so he said it and gained a well-deserved glare. His lips twisted into a leering grin, but Timur did not notice, too busy wrapping the creature in his jacket in hopes to provide it some warmth. “Looks like a little rat.” 

“You’re actually no fun,” Timur told him, pretending to be hurt by all the teasing. They continued to walk along the trail, having given up on running with their exhaustion and this newfound stray which had him absolutely enamoured. “He’s so small and thin- I think he was born recently, his eyes are still blue.”

“Right, and what are you gonna do with it?” Maxim went on to question and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “We can’t keep it. The landlord said no pets, and you sure as hell can't keep it here.”

“I’m keeping him,” Timur declared and there was no negotiating around it. He made up his mind and looked towards him with a strong, brazen gaze to challenge any retort. Maxim opened his mouth to argue back, but he realised his efforts would be futile. They exchanged a long silence in which he stood and contemplated what was worse, dealing with the upset of surrendering this kitten to the shelters or getting kicked out of their apartment in the inevitable case their landlord would discover they were harbouring an animal on his property. “That damn dog is still there barking everyday, no one will find out about a cat.”

Except half the base did find out when Timur tried to smuggle the kitten into the workshop, from the recruits looking over their shoulder to the curious glances Saif cast towards them during the long elevator ride. The mewling didn’t help, it immediately caught everyone’s attention and they crowded around the metal sink of the workshop as Timur scrubbed the stray with some warm, soapy water. 

Marius returned from his coffee break and wore a perplexed expression as he wondered why the large gathering around the table, all the cooing and laughter. He raised himself on his toes to look past Mark’s shoulders. “What’s happening?” 

“Timur found a kitten when he was out jogging,” Shuhrat explained, a warm smile on his usual deadpan face. He observed the kitten lapping at some water from a shallow dish and chuckled under his breath, amused by the sight.

“We’re thinking of what to call him,” Emmanuelle went on to add. 

It was that specific brightening of Marius’ expression which everyone knew to be a light bulb going off in his head. His brows perked upwards. “Her, actually,” he said and paused to gather his thoughts on the topic so he wouldn’t release an Armageddon of information upon the masses. “The colouring in her coat, she’s a calico. Calicos are almost always female unless this one, by chance, has a genetic abnormality. I, uh… watched a documentary about this once.” 

A brief pause fell upon the room at this information. Timur regarded the small creature again and gave her a gentle pat. “Well, what do we call her?”

Had it been up to Maxim, he couldn’t have given her a name, but to the local shelter instead. However he had a strong notion that there was no way he was going to convince Timur to give up the kitten, so he came to terms with their new pet and decided to pay her as little mind as possible. 

By the end of the workday, the entire brain power of Research and Development couldn’t think of a name that fit. From silly suggestions to earnest attempts, nothing seemed to stick. 

Timur looked down at the cardboard box cradled in his arms as they paced across the parking lot. Bundled in his hoodie, the kitten was asleep and appeared to be content, however Timur wanted to make sure she was okay and what kind of care she needed. 

“Think we can stop by the vets?” 

It wasn’t much of a request nor a suggestion. Maxim fidgeted with his phone to find a veterinarian on the journey home and set it on the GPS. He continued to give some name suggestions, whatever sprung to mind. Growing up, he didn’t have many pets and most of them were dogs, although he recalled his great-aunt’s cats and offered those dreaded names to the table. It made for an interesting story, but not a great name for a kitten of the twenty-first century. 

While Timur dealt with the kitten, Maxim idled in the car and kept himself busy with a cigarette and some music. It wasn’t that he disliked the cat or had some kind of animosity towards it, he just didn’t _feel_ for her as strongly as Timur did. However he saw the joy it brought him and figured there would be no harm in keeping her around.

Condensation built up on the windows from the warmth of the heating system. The cosiness of the car lulled Maxim to sleep and he reclined, crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes for what felt like only a few minutes. A hurried knocking on the window roused him from his slumber. He leaned over to open the door on the passenger side and reached to receive the small pet carrier containing the kitten.

It took some time before Timur got settled down. He had a plastic bag of kitten formula, some basic accessories, a folder of documents and pamphlets, all of which he put by the backseats before taking the carrier into his arms again. 

“I had to give her a name when the vet was registering her at the clinic. I couldn’t think, so on paper she is Koshka,” he explained, sticking his finger through the grates to stroke her cheek. 

“Sounds good. Your Koshka, hm?” 

The name stuck this time and Timur didn’t have any better ideas. Their eyes met, a small smile bloomed on his face at the sudden revelation. _Their_ Koshka. 

At home, nothing changed much aside from the occasional meow and the fact that Timur spent a majority of his time making sure Koshka wasn’t getting into somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. After dinner, he fixed her another bottle of formula and fed her while they watched television. Maxim put an arm around his shoulder and observed, shifting his attention between their kitten and the programme running in the background.

To his surprise, Koshka decided to migrate to his lap after her small meal. She trod over his thighs several times to investigate if it would be a suitable place to sleep, deemed it sufficient then circled a couple times and collapsed into a small ball. Timur smiled at the interaction, his heart fluttering when Maxim gave a confused chuckle and glanced up to check his reaction.

“She likes you,” Timur noted and grabbed his phone to snap a quick photograph. Showing some apprehension, Maxim stroked Koshka with the pad of his finger, afraid he could harm such a fragile being. At the light contact, the kitten shifted and rolled onto her back, presenting her belly for pets. “Full of milk.” 

The more Maxim handled her, he realised the appeal behind cats. “Full of worms,” he joked in a crude manner and received a well-deserved nudge. 

“Quit bullying our cat, asshole.”

* * *

Over the following weeks, Koshka grew fast. They found her when she was just three weeks old and able to fit into the palm of Timur’s hand. Since weaning off formula to solids, she was a fiend for food and had an endless appetite. Her constant energy meant spending a good portion of the evening keeping her entertained so she wouldn’t turn to shredding the wallpaper for fun. Timur gave her plenty of attention and doted on her every chance he got.

The variation in their free time was nice. Maxim would never admit it, though there were times where he felt slightly neglected compared to before. It didn’t get to him, mostly because he understood the excitement behind their new pet. Plus, he was a grown man, he wasn’t going to get jealous over a cat. That’s what he told himself, but there were mornings when he made eye contact with Koshka and wondered how this little devil stole Timur’s heart so effortlessly. 

Life carried on as usual though. Their workdays remained consistent as long as no mission blindsided them. In preparation for this event, Timur left a set of keys for trusted neighbours. Outside of work, they remained the same as ever and Maxim never lost the time they had for one another in the evenings. 

However, the new addition of Koshka often made things awkward. She liked affections too and cuddles on the sofa involved her stepping all over them to find a comfortable position to sleep. Sometimes she nestled in Timur’s lap and eyed Maxim, knowing she stole his opportunity for a scalp massage. In the bedroom, she stomped on their pillows and enjoyed sleeping between them. Most of the time, Maxim ignored her presence unless she asked for the attention, other times it was impossible.

“Stop, I can’t-“ He broke into laughter mid-coitus. Puzzled, Timur stopped all motions and questioned what the issue was. He was perfectly fine and saw nothing funny about their current situation. “She keeps watching, I can’t do this.”

Timur’s expression eased with a gentle smile and he glanced to his right to spot the white bundle that was Koshka, sitting on the dresser and observing them. She was mostly captivated by the silver glint of his dog-tags jostling with every major movement. He pressed a kiss onto Maxim’s lips before getting out of bed to kick her out of the room. Once that was sorted, he returned to Maxim’s arms and they ignored the sounds of scratching against their door. 

A nuisance. That’s what Maxim called her most of the time, but in all honesty, he didn’t mind Koshka all that much. As a young kitten, she was full of curiosities and overly playful, taking any kind of interaction as an invitation to run wild. Of course he tried to engage in it, though it seemed he was unable to understand the mindset of a cat. She didn’t appreciate the aggressive head rubbing which most dogs would’ve gladly enjoyed. 

Sorting through the mail, Maxim occupied the dining table for himself and fidgeted with a pen as he read down a letter from his family. The constant tapping caught Koshka’s attention from across the room, her claws clicked against the hardwood floor as she approached to investigate. She leapt onto the table and sniffed the torn envelope several times, batted around a fragment of paper with her paw before the movement of the pen enticed her to strike. 

Maxim had an eye on her and made sure to stop writing when she poised herself to pounce. He wiggled the pen again in his hand and smiled as her eyes dilated. Tail sweeping from side to side, Koshka pressed onto her hind legs before springing forwards, brutally enveloping herself around Maxim’s hands. Her claws sank in and Maxim winced at the pinpricks, but he set aside the pain to wrestle back in a playful manner as she pretended to subdue his finger. 

Once the fun was over, Maxim returned to sorting through the bills. However, Koshka didn’t quite see it that way. She assumed the brief engagement was an invitation to more play and proceeded to pester him at every opportunity, whether that be knocking the pen in his hand or pushing letters off the table. 

Timur emerged from his office to grab a drink and watched the interaction from the counter. Frustrated, Maxim plucked her from the table and set her securely in his lap, caging her in with a strong arm so she could only watch. Koshka, realising that her antics would not be tolerated, hopped off his lap and ambled towards the kitchen to circle Timur’s legs. 

“I think that means she wants you to take her with you.”

At the suggestion, Timur leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in one of his arms. “Of course, she loves me. Don’t you, Koshka?” He pressed a kiss onto the squirming kitten’s head and returned to his office. 

He could only take her to so many places and abroad wasn’t one of them. In times when he was sent away on another assignment, it left Maxim and Koshka alone in the apartment. Thankfully it wasn’t going to be as long as the one in South Africa, but it still meant time for Maxim to sulk by himself. To his luck, he had Koshka to keep him company. Where Timur was absent on his side of the bed, she curled up on his pillow and kept it warm. 

With nothing too pressing on the agenda, Maxim slept in on his day off. He woke to the sensation of Koshka pawing at his face and making the occasional noise loud enough to rouse him from his slumber. She didn’t care about his customs of religiously waking at the same time everyday aside from his day off where he could gladly sleep for fifteen hours unwarranted. When he grumbled for another ten minutes, she nudged his chin with her head and collapsed onto his chest. He quelled her fussing and held her close, allowing the thrum of her purrs to fill the void. 

The fur felt great against bare skin, though Koshka shed everywhere. All over the bed covers, on their clothes, every surface of the apartment. The only bright side of this was that it gave him more chores to do. He would never be bored because when everything else was done, it never hurt to vacuum the apartment for the fifth time in the week. 

They exchanged disgruntled looks. Had Timur been here, Koshka would have been fed hours ago and Maxim wouldn’t be still laying in bed at two in the afternoon. 

“Right. Fine.” He sat up and stretched worn muscles, cracking almost every joint in his body. “I know, I miss him too.”

They kept each other company for the time being, but it wasn’t as if there was a lot to do. After a late breakfast and some television, Maxim tried to play with her, using the small laser pointer which occupied her attention for a couple minutes before she grew bored of it. As usual, he stepped out for a quick smoke and Koshka tried to follow suit, keen to explore the balcony.

There were hard rules in this house regarding Koshka. She wasn’t allowed on the balcony, banned from the dinner table and Timur’s office was out of bounds unless she was supervised. Though in times like this, it was hard to enforce them. Their eyes met through the glass and Maxim gave in. He picked her up and set her on the garden chair before retreating to the far side of the balcony to light his cigarette. 

She sniffed around for a bit then she settled down, basking in the afternoon sun with a contented expression. Amber eyes blinked back in a slow, appreciative manner and Maxim found himself smiling, triumphant that he earned her approval.

“Don’t tell Timur, alright?” Maxim took a seat on the other chair once he finished his cigarette and they enjoyed the sun together in a comfortable silence.

Overhead, flocks of birds passed by the horizon. The distant call of birdsong rang out, likely from the trees in the parking lot beneath them. Koshka observed, looking out with a keen gaze. She produced an odd sound, one which Maxim had never heard of before. A soft chirp, turning into clicky chattering when she locked onto a bird returning to its perch in the trees. 

The sharp senses of a hunter. Maxim copied her and trilled back, laughing at her confused response. He whistled several times and surprised her. The last thing he expected was his small party trick of mimicking birds to be so useful, especially to entertain a small animal. Or rather, Koshka was humouring him by responding to his noises. They continued on for a couple minutes, mystified by the world until Maxim decided it was time to return inside. 

The more time they spent together, the more he realised that he didn’t mind keeping her around. He’d always considered himself a dog person, but cats weren’t as bad as he remembered them to be. Different, for sure, however Koshka had an attentiveness to her that Maxim liked. Sometimes he felt idiotic for talking to her, he liked to pretend she understood what he meant. Yet seemingly, when it came to wanting to be understood, Koshka couldn’t comprehend “get off the table” no matter how many times he told her.

She took a seat on the far side of the dinner table and made her wishes clear. In exchange for a moment of peace, she wanted some chicken. It wasn’t a terrible deal, but she had already been fed and Maxim didn’t want to be cleaning vomit in the case he overfed her. Reluctant, he ate the skin off the chicken wing and tore off the meat to give to her. Koshka lapped at the bones in the meantime as she awaited her treat. 

Following dinner, there wasn’t much to do other than watch television. She situated herself on Maxim’s chest as usual, fancying warm muscle over the plush bed Timur ordered off the internet. Absentmindedly, Maxim petted her and she purred like a Geiger counter and the low vibrations were oddly calming. Behind the ear, he noted, was the precise spot that was best to massage. 

They both jolted when the phone rang. Maxim picked it up right away and tried to find a more flattering angle that wasn’t under his chin, though it was tiring to continue holding his phone in the air.

“You two look comfortable,” Timur commented, his expression brightening upon seeing them. “Is she keeping you good company?”

Maxim raised a brow. “Not as good as yours,” he said and pressed a kiss onto her tiny head as she tried to nudge his jaw for more pets. “Did you know our little lady loves chicken wings? _And_ she can’t wait for you to come home.”

It wasn’t clear if Koshka recognised Timur’s voice. Her ear gave a twitch when he laughed, but other than that she seemed to be falling into a food-coma. His gaze softened the more he studied them and he glanced up to check the time. “The flight is in three hours. You excited?” 

“Of course. When am I not?” Maxim flashed him a broad smile, restraining from sounding too desperate or needy. Truth was, he was brimming with anticipation to have Timur back in his arms. They hadn’t been apart for long, though just having his presence around made the world of a difference. “Are you sure you don’t want to be picked up?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Shuhrat says he can drop me off.” 

They talked for a while longer before they were too tired to continue. Timur had a flight, Maxim wanted sleep. With that, they hung up and decided to leave the conversation for when they would speak face to face. Maxim turned off the television and considered getting up, but Koshka looked so peaceful asleep on his chest that it felt like a cardinal sin to wake her up. He couldn’t move. He wasn’t allowed to. Trapped here, he shifted carefully to adjust his position and tried to make himself comfortable. 

The door to their apartment creaked open at four o’clock in the morning. Not a single soul stirred and Timur slipped inside as quietly as he could. He stepped out of his shoes and glanced over the half wall to see the kitchen spotless. The sound of breathing was audible, definitely within close proximity and he strained his eyes to see through the thick darkness of the living room.

Some light managed to illuminate the kitchen, but it couldn’t reach too far into their apartment. Timur made out the silhouette of Maxim’s body across their couch as he approached. Half a can of beer sat on the table, Maxim’s phone was low on battery, he looked uncomfortable on the unsteady sofa cushions. If anything, he would rather sleep on the floor. It would be better for his back, but in this situation he didn’t have any choice.

Timur considered disturbing them before Maxim would wake up the next morning complaining about pains all over his body. Although he paused for a moment and observed the peaceful image of his lover and their cat, sound asleep in the quiet of the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is [@CompoundZ8](https://twitter.com/CompoundZ8)  
> My Tumblr is [erc-7](https://erc-7.tumblr.com)


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